


Take Me Home

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Catelyn Tully Stark Doesn't Hate Jon Snow, F/M, Family Secrets, Jon Snow and Sansa Stark are Cousins, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Love Letters, Ned Stark Lives, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “I can’t tell you why. I will one day – when the time is right. But until then, you must keep her safe for me,” Ned told his old friend. “Her mother and I will send for her. Someday. But until then-”“I will guard her with my life,” Yohn Royce vowed to him..x.x.x.The only two people alive to know the truth of Jon’s birth, Ned and Catelyn Stark begin to worry when they see their daughter and her “half-brother” Jon grow closer; their developing feelings obvious to everyone.Not wanting to allow anyone to think that a brother and sister are romantically involved, they choose to send Sansa away to Runestone in the Vale, to be cared for by Ned’s trusted friend, Lord Yohn Royce, with the hope that Jon and Sansa will eventually move on and forget their feelings for one another.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 295
Kudos: 310





	1. Everyone Can See

…

**One.**

So much paperwork. That was what made up so much of Ned Stark’s life. Paperwork and letters, ledger books and reports from the other Northern Lords and subjects. Not only was he Lord of Winterfell but he was also Warden of the North and both roles were never taken lightly or neglected. Even if it meant eating his meals in his private solar or staying up so late, the candles burned down to almost nothing, Ned made sure that he saw to everything he was to see to before collapsing into his bed, rising the next morning and doing it all over again. It never ended and the paperwork never lightened.

He had help, of course. It didn’t fall entirely on his shoulders but even with the help, Ned Stark always remained a very busy man. Some days, his oldest son Robb and his other son, Jon, would join him. Robb was to take over as Lord of Winterfell when Ned passed on from this life and Ned taught both on how to run their own houses and lands because though Jon wouldn’t be at Winterfell, he someday would have his own responsibilities and it was Ned’s duty to not send his children ignorant into the world.

But other days, Robb and Jon would be in the training yards and Ned was joined by others. Vayon Poole and Maester Luwin were often in the solar with him and others to stop in, delivering their own status reports were Rodrik Cassel or Ned’s Captain of the Guards at Winterfell, Jory Cassel. Septa Mordane would come, too, to let him know of the education of his two daughters, Sansa and Arya, because although what the girls learned fell to his wife, Catelyn, Ned liked to be kept aware of everything his children were up to.

And, of course, Ned relied heavily on his wife. As Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn had her own jobs and responsibilities but Ned couldn’t help but need her, too, and Catelyn always made sure she was there whenever her husband needed her.

One of the things Catelyn did for Ned was keep her eyes open. While he was away in his solar or in the Hall, seeing to disputes people came to him to listen to and fix, Catelyn was the one walking the grounds of Winterfell, her watchful eyes taking note of everything. If something happened, either she would handle it herself or she would be sure to tell her husband of it so Ned could see to it himself.

It was an hour after they had all broken their fasts and the children were off to their lessons or training and everyone within Winterfell were going about their own duties. Ned was in his solar with Vayon, going over the ledgers that showed crop production, with the windows open to allow the somewhat cool – but refreshing – breeze to blow inside and provide fresh air during their work. He could also hear the shouts and clashes of the wooden swords from the practice yards below.

Both Ned and Vayon lifted their heads when the door suddenly pushed open with so much force, it banged into the wall behind it, and Catelyn swept into the room.

“Vayon, please leave us,” Catelyn said in that instant.

Vayon did not argue or even look to Ned to see if he would say something different. The man simply pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He gave them both a bow before leaving the room, taking the door with him and closing it behind him, leaving Ned and Catelyn alone.

“What is it?” Ned asked, pushing himself to his feet as well.

Catelyn went to the window behind his desk and crooked her finger for Ned to follow her. He turned and stood at her side, looking out to the practice yards to see what his wife saw.

It took him only a moment.

Sansa was in the training yards that morning and that certainly was out of the ordinary. She was never there; never having a reason to be. The training yards of Winterfell were not an appropriate place for Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn’s oldest daughter.

But this morning, she was there and she wasn’t by herself.

Jon stood with her and the boy’s smile was obvious even from the second floor window of Ned’s solar. He was holding a wooden practice sword and he was saying something to Sansa, who was smiling just as brightly. She laughed then at whatever Jon’s words had been and even over the noise of the yard, both Ned and Catelyn could hear it perfectly. It was light and happy and it floated right to them.

Jon then went to Sansa, coming to stand behind her. He held the sword in front of her and Sansa looked at him from over her shoulder. The two looked deeply in one another’s eyes and the distance didn’t matter. The look they shared made Ned shift uncomfortably on his feet.

Wooden practice swords were deceptively heavy. Sansa was thirteen and would not be able to hold it for more than a second before the blade fell to the ground. Jon knew this and both Catelyn and Ned watched – unblinking; unbreathing – as Jon’s arms came around Sansa’s body so his hands were holding the sword as well, joining hers. He said something to her then and Sansa smiled, laughing again, and Jon smiled, too.

At the same time, Ned and Catelyn looked at one another.

Put simply enough, this was not good.

They looked back down to Jon and Sansa; as if they were looking back just to make sure that they were seeing what they thought they were seeing.

Catelyn had had her suspicions and had voiced those to Ned but Ned admitted that – though he trusted his wife completely – he had thought that perhaps, she was exaggerating or seeing something that wasn’t there. But it very much was _not_ in his wife’s imagination. Ned could see that with his own two eyes now.

And if they could see this between Jon and Sansa, everyone else could see it, too.

As far as everyone was concerned, Jon and Sansa were brother and sister. Half, yes, but still sibling enough for this to be entirely inappropriate. Ned had confided in his wife when he returned with his sister’s infant son in his arms and the vow he made to Lyanna Stark still on his lips. Both Ned and Catelyn knew what they had to do. It was the only thing to do. It would keep them all safe and alive.

Jon would be Ned’s bastard son and no one could prove it otherwise. Jon would be raised along with Ned and Catelyn’s other children, all believing that he was their half-brother. But at this moment, their daughter and Jon certainly weren’t acting or looking at one another as if they were siblings in any sense of the word.

For one flash of a second, Ned wondered if Jon’s father’s blood was coming through. He then felt immediately guilty for thinking such a thing. Jon was as Northern as any Stark that came before him. He and Catelyn had watched Jon grow up and had raised him under their roof for the past sixteen years and there was never a brief glimpse of Targaryen that ever came through.

But right now, Jon was looking at the girl who he thought was his half-sister and he was looking at her as if she was anyone but his sister. And Sansa’s gaze on him mirrored his own. 

“I will speak with Sansa after her lessons with Septa Mordane this afternoon,” Catelyn promised.

Ned gave a firm nod. “And I will speak with Jon right now.”

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU very much for reading! A short introduction of sorts. 
> 
> And if you have read my story, "I Of the Storm", you know I have a massive love for Yohn Royce and he being in Sansa's life. I also wrote a version of Robin in that story that I just absolutely loved and I'm giving it another shot in this story.


	2. Where It Began

…

**Two.**

She didn’t mean for it to happen. She certainly didn’t plan on it or even dream about it. It just…

Happened.

Maybe it was because she was thirteen now; practically a woman.

She knew it was wrong. Disgusting even. She was attracted to boys and she certainly had had crushes before but she knew that one of those crushes should _never_ be on her brother. Technically – and she knew, deep down, she had to be technical about it – Jon was her half-brother. That half was very important.

She sometimes wondered though if it was even less than half though, to her, because her feelings seemed to forget about that very important fact. It made her feel dirty and sometimes, she truly hated herself for looking at Jon and seeing anyone other than a brother – no matter if “half” was in the description or not. Half or not, it was still so horribly wrong of her and she had to wonder what was wrong with her because obviously, something was _very_ wrong with her.

Sansa loved her family and her friends but sometimes, she just craved her own company. Taking Lady and perhaps some sewing or parchment with her, Sansa slipped away – after making sure that she wasn’t needed by her parents and there were no lessons with Septa Mordane to attend. She went far into the Godswood where she knew that no one would stumble upon her and there she sat, her back against a tree and stayed there for as long as she could without someone coming in search of her.

The first afternoon, she was sitting on the fur she had brought with her and had her sketch parchment with her. It was something she had only just discovered. She very much liked sketching. Nothing of importance, she knew, and she had no real talent for it but she loved sewing so much and creating her own dresses, she now sketched ideas she had for dresses she would love to attempt someday.

Her direwolf, still a pup, was snoring at her side, helping in keeping her warm and Sansa concentrated on the newest dress she was creating; trying so hard to transfer it from her mind, where it was such a clear image, to the parchment she had against her thighs. She knew practice made perfect – just as it had with her sewing – and was not going to give up on her sketches no matter how poorly they looked at the moment.

She froze when she suddenly heard something. A skip of a rock; as if it had been kicked.

Lady heard it as well and the pup was immediately on all fours, at attention. Sansa sat up, looking around. She didn’t feel afraid. This, after all, was the Godswood within the walls of Winterfell and no one here would wish to do her harm. Still, she had to know who had stumbled upon her seclusion. Lady wasn’t stiff or showing her teeth; prepared to attack whoever was coming near. Instead, she was simply watching and waiting so Sansa knew that she, herself, was alright.

And that proved true when Jon suddenly appeared from the trees, stopping as soon as he saw her.

“What are you doing out here?” He immediately asked.

“What are _you_ doing out here?” Sansa asked back.

“I’m hiding,” he stated and she tilted her head slightly to the side, wondering if that was what he truly meant. Jon smiled a little at her confused expression. “It’s something Robb, Theon and I do. Orders of Jory’s. It helps us in our combat fighting. If we ever have to sneak up on an enemy. Hiding, being quiet, surprising the others and getting the upper hand.”

“Oh.” That made sense to her and she leaned back against the tree trunk once again. Lady, now seeing that it was Jon, had laid down once again at Sansa’s side and promptly went back to sleep.

Sansa expected Jon to continue on his way and resume his hiding game and she put her attention back on her sketch again. She was thinking perhaps a gray color or a blue. The detail of the bodice was going to be the focal point of the dress so perhaps, the color of the fabric wouldn’t be that important.

“What are you doing?” Jon’s voice was suddenly so much closer and she jumped at the sound of it. She turned and saw that he had sat himself down on the fur as well.

“Taking a break from hiding?” She asked with a smile and Jon smiled, too. “I’m…” she looked down to the sketch for a moment before back to him.

She and Jon got along. There was no reason for them not to. They had the same family; the same blood. And despite being a constant reminder of Ned Stark’s relationship outside of his marriage, Catelyn had never treated Jon anything less than a son and all of the Stark children treated him as nothing less than a brother. But, and Sansa supposed it was like this in all big families, she and Jon weren’t as close as her other siblings. It was just one of those things – too many people to have a special relationship with every single one of them.

That was why Sansa hesitated now. She didn’t think Jon would make fun of her. She knew he wouldn’t. Yet… he could easily say something in innocent jest that she would take too seriously and allow her feelings to be hurt. She wasn’t very good at sketching yet and she didn’t want to open herself up to possible criticism.

“I’m sketching,” she answered. “But,” she rushed to add. “I don’t want to show you.”

Jon seemed a little surprised at that. Perhaps, even a little confused. But after a moment, he gave a nod paired with a warm smile. “When you’re ready to show them off, I’d love to see them.”

“Thank you, Jon,” she smiled, too, feeling relieved.

“I best get back to it,” he said and pushing himself to his feet and Sansa watched as he moved on, disappearing into the trees again.

Sansa looked back to her sketch. She supposed it did resemble a dress. Maybe she would show him next time; if he asked to and if he still wanted to. Jon wouldn’t be the sort to laugh about it.

…

“Sketching again?”

Sansa lifted her head from the small book in her hands. She smiled when she saw it was Jon.

“Hiding again?” She asked in return.

Jon gave her a broad smile and lowered himself to the fur she had spread out. This time, he sat right next to her and with Lady on her one side and Jon now at her other, Sansa felt incredibly warm.

“I’m studying for the quiz Maester Luwin said he’s going to surprise us with in the next few days,” she answered as she showed him the cover of the book. “I’m awful at geography but maybe, I can do well in Westeros history.”

“We have that in common,” Jon said and she watched as he stretched his legs out in front of him, his back leaning against the same tree trunk as her. Their shoulders were mashed together and yet, Sansa found that she didn’t shift to make herself more comfortable. It might have been a bit awkward, but Sansa didn’t mind – for whatever reason. “I’ve lost count of how many times Maester Luwin has talked to father about it. He always asks, if I can’t remember where anything is on a map, how am I going to be able to get myself there?”

“Do you want to go somewhere?” Sansa asked.

She didn’t know the answer and for some reason, she didn’t like that she didn’t know.

“I’d love to go North.”

“To the Wall? Like Uncle Benjen?” She almost gasped at that.

Jon smiled at her reaction. “I would stop for a visit but I wouldn’t stay. I have no interest in joining the Night’s Watch. No. I want to go _beyond_ the Wall. See the true North. Wild and untamed, I bet it’s filled with things _no one_ has ever seen.”

“It’s uncharted, too,” Sansa added. “You’d be able to make your own maps.”

Jon looked at her after she said that and when he broke into a grin, Sansa smiled, too, feeling happy and still so warm. (But why she would feel happy, she didn’t even begin to guess.)

…

That night, warm under her furs, sleeping peacefully, Sansa found herself dreaming of beyond the Wall and what she would possibly see. She was with Jon and it was just the two of them, nothing but white stretching ahead of them for as far as their eyes could see.

And in her dream, Jon took her hand and she felt warm again.

The next morning, the dream was still fresh in her mind but Sansa did her best to push it to the back where she would do her best to forget it. Why she was dreaming of Jon, her half-brother, she didn’t know and to be honest, she didn’t want to know.

…

This time, she didn’t lift her eyes as she felt Jon lower himself next to her on the fur or share the tree trunk with her again.

“I snagged this from the kitchen for you. Got my hand slapped and everything.”

A hot roll appeared in front of her face and she smiled, looking at him as she took it. “Thank you, Jon.”

“You’re welcome,” he said before taking a bite from his own roll. “Sketching again?”

She nodded and turned the parchment a little away from him so he couldn’t see it clearly. “I’m not very good or else, I would show you.”

“I don’t believe that. You’re good at everything you try.”

“Except for geography.”

Jon smiled at that. “Family trait,” he said and she laughed softly. “I mean it though. I bet you’re so much better than you think you are. I can’t think of anything you’ve ever tried that you haven’t been amazing at.”

Sansa heard his words and slowly, she lifted her eyes to look at him. Once again, she felt warm but this time, she knew it wasn’t only because of him sitting next to her. It was from his words and they gave her the slightest clenching in her stomach.

What was the matter with her? Her stomach had clenched in the same way towards the young man who worked in Winterfell’s stables – Renfred – and every time he went to get her a horse, saddling it for her, smiling at her, she had just been a girl of twelve but her stomach had clenched so tightly every time he did.

And now, her stomach was clenching once again but this was because of Jon. Her half- _brother_. She felt as if any second, her father or mother would appear, be able to read her thoughts and demand she tell them what was wrong with her – because something was clearly very wrong with her if she was looking at Jon and thinking things that made her stomach clench.

But his words had been so kind and looking at him, she could tell that he absolutely meant them.

Exhaling a deep breath, slowly, she turned the piece of parchment towards him so he could see her sketch. She watched his face, waiting for the slightest hint of amusement as he looked at her poor attempt at drawing.

“I’m still teaching myself,” she felt the need to tell him.

Jon looked for a moment at her sketch before he looked at her and he gave her a soft smile. “I told you, Sansa. You’d be amazing at sketching and I was right. What is it? A tree?”

Sansa’s mouth fell open and when he began to smile – almost laugh – she realized that he was teasing her.

“Oh, you!” She exclaimed and he began laughing as she hit him over the head with her parchments.

(Her stomach hadn’t stopped clenching.)

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading and being interested in this one! I am so glad this one wants to be read!
> 
> The next chapter, we have Ned talking with Jon and Catelyn talking with Sansa. 
> 
> (PS - Sansa isn't going to be staying 13 for this story. When she goes to live with Yohn Royce, we will fast-forward.)


	3. For Your Safety

…

**Three.**

Ned couldn’t be exactly sure why but as he looked for Jon, and couldn’t find him, he began to feel nervous. Maybe even a little scared. He didn’t know why he would feel either of those things. Jon was here, somewhere, and Ned would find him, not doing anything he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Ned and Catelyn had raised that boy and he had grown into a fine young man. Jon had never showed to them why they should think anything different of him.

And Sansa was a good as a daughter could ever be, he added in his thoughts; as if he needed to add that.

It wasn’t as if Ned thought that Catelyn was exaggerating or even hallucinating. He had seen it as well between Jon and Sansa. What exactly he had seen, he still wasn’t sure but he knew it was _something_ but he also wondered if it wasn’t that much of something.

Still having not found Jon anywhere, Ned’s stomach tightened. He knew that sometimes, Sansa slipped away into the Godswood and for some reason, he began to think that perhaps, Jon had gone there as well. And as Ned headed in that direction, he tried to think of what he could tell Jon without telling him much of anything. Maybe he didn’t have to tell him anything. As far as Jon – and Sansa – knew, he was Sansa’s half-brother and having any kind of relationship with her that went beyond familial was as wrong as something could be. Sansa was his younger sister and Jon should not be thinking of her as anything else.

It wasn’t the exact truth but Jon and Sansa didn’t know that. They had been raised as brother and sister and that was what they should remember.

But Ned still had to wonder…

Were Jon and Sansa, somehow, able to sense that they weren’t brother and sister at all? That they were actually cousins and their attraction – if there was an attraction – was far more appropriate and accepted?

They couldn’t possibly know the truth though.

There were only three people in this entire world who knew the truth of Jon’s parentage. Himself, his wife, and Howland Reed, who he trusted with his very life and he did not doubt that Howland would take this secret to his very grave. When he had returned with the baby in his arms and told his wife, Catelyn had been swift to say that they must never tell anyone; not even Jon. His very life depended on this secret.

That still was true; all of these years later. And Ned knew that it didn’t matter if there was something growing, or not growing, between Jon and Sansa. The fact was, Catelyn and Ned had both seen something that hadn’t looked normal and if they had seen it, everyone else might have seen it, too, and they couldn’t allow that to continue. Jon and Sansa were brother and sister and that was that.

In the Godswood, he silenced his steps. He admitted, he wanted to sneak up on the pair – if they were together – and see how they acted when they thought no one was around them to see.

He felt his gut tighten in anticipation of what he might find.

He came upon them beneath a tree, sitting together on a fur spread out on the ground. Sansa had a small book in her hands and she was reading out loud; a book of poems. Jon sat at her side – too close for siblings, Ned noted – and the young man was looking to Sansa’s face as she read and his eyes took no notice of anything around them.

It took all of a second of Ned watching them for that nervous tightness inside of his gut to turn hot red. He hadn’t meant for it to. He hadn’t _planned_ on it. He had just come here to talk to Jon but seeing Jon and Sansa in this very moment, he felt fury whether he meant to feel that or not.

Looking at the two right now, Ned only saw himself and the way he looked at Catelyn.

“Jon! Sansa!” He snapped.

Jon and Sansa both jumped with alarm and when they saw Ned, their eyes widened and they scrambled to their feet. Ned’s heart began pounding as he stepped to them. Had they just been reading and looking at one another? Had they done anything else? Had they done anything _more_?

“What are you two doing?” He demanded to know.

“Nothing, father,” Jon shook his head but he did it too quickly to let Ned know that he was guilty of something. Ned was a father to too many children to note the signs.

“I was just practicing my poetry,” Sansa added but she looked like she was about to cry. Perhaps she knew that what she and Jon had been doing – or not doing – hadn’t been proper brother/sister behavior.

Ned frowned heavily at his daughter and she lowered her eyes to the ground. “Sansa, go back inside. Your mother has been wanting to speak with you.”

“Yes, father,” she readily obeyed and without looking at either Ned or Jon again, keeping her eyes to the ground, Sansa lifted the hem of her dress with one hand so she could hurry away that much faster.

Ned watched her over his shoulder and when she disappeared through the trees, he turned back to Jon. He didn’t look apologetic like Sansa. Instead, he looked rather angry.

“We weren’t doing anything,” Jon said, his voice hard and firm; no longer speaking quickly.

“No? I’ve never seen Sansa read poetry to Robb or you look at Arya in that way.” Jon’s frown deepened. “She is your sister, Jon. Have you forgotten that?”

“Of course not. What kind of question is that?”

“You’re not acting like it. You’re acting like a lovesick fool. Over his _sister_.”

“Half-sister,” Jon felt the need to correct him.

Ned’s jaw clenched at that and his eyes flashed. Jon was not backing down though. He kept his eyes staring into Ned’s, his body tight and braced; either ready for impact or prepared to give it himself. The boy’s anger reminded Ned so much of Lyanna in that moment, Ned was the one who actually broke eye contact first. It made his chest ache – ever after all of these years – whenever he looked at Jon and saw his sister.

In all of these years, Ned and Catelyn had watched Jon, wondering if he would take after the Stark side or his father’s. They all knew what everyone said about a Targaryen being born into this world. The Gods flipped a coin. Ned thanked the Gods every day that Jon did not seem to be like that side of his blood but now, having seen the way he was looking at Sansa, perhaps there was more Targaryen to him than Ned ever saw before.

Ned looked back to him, his frown firmly back in place once again. “Having to add _half_ to anything to justify your actions, Jon, is not the way to justify anything.”

Jon’s jaw visibly clenched at that but he – wisely – remained silent.

“Half or not, she is your sister and I don’t know what you have done or what you have imagined doing but you will not. Do you understand me?”

“Nothing has gone on and nothing is going on,” Jon said through practically clenched teeth.

Ned told himself to believe him. Jon had never been dishonest towards him. None of his children had ever been. And yet, perhaps it was because of how Ned had walked upon them and saw Jon’s eyes as he looked to Sansa and listened to her read to him. Perhaps it was for that reason, Ned couldn’t bring himself to believe him like he would like.

“My Lord!”

Both turned to see one of the servants hurrying towards him, a rolled parchment in his hand.

“My Lord, this just arrived for you!”

He came to a stop, panting from having run the whole way, and thrust the parchment out for Ned to take. Ned did and when he saw the wax seal, he knew exactly who it was from. It was from the King.

…

Sansa watched as servants moved around her chamber, her mother directing them as they packed her things away into the trunks. She stood, ramrod, knowing what she was watching but not _understanding_. Lady sat next to her, her direwolf pup picking up on her tangle of confusion, hurt and growing anger and not leaving Sansa’s side. Ned stood at the fireplace, his arms crossed loosely over his chest and watching as all of his daughter’s belongings were slowly disappearing from where she had them in her room.

“But why?” Robb was the one to ask. “What has she done?”

“Nothing,” Ned answered. “And don’t think that for a second.”

Sansa watched her father closely, wondering if that was the truth. It couldn’t be though because if Sansa hadn’t done anything or if her parents weren’t angry at her, they wouldn’t be sending her away. Was it because of her and Jon in the Godswood together? Were her parents able to peek inside of her and were so disgusted with what they saw there? Their own daughter developing feelings towards her own brother? They obviously saw and now couldn’t stand the site of her.

“Then why does she have to go?” Arya was the one to ask next; nearly demanding it.

Sansa looked at both her mother and father now, curious as to what they would say in way of explanation.

_“Your sister has been having impure thoughts over Jon and instead of completely disowning her, we’re sending here away forever to live in shame with her disgusting thoughts.”_

It was Catelyn who answered. “This is for the best. We can’t explain it to any of you yet. But we will.” She looked to Ned then, who nodded his head.

“When it’s safe again, we will tell you,” he promised them all.

“I’m not safe?” Sansa finally spoke.

“Of course you’re safe,” Catelyn said, folding a fur and setting it into one of the trunks. “Going away doesn’t mean that you’re not safe. This is just a way for you to be _more_ safe.”

Robb frowned. “What the Seven Hells does that mean?”

“Robb!” Catelyn instantly admonished.

“It means that Sansa is going to stay with Yohn Royce in the Vale where he can look after her,” Ned told them all. “He has remained a close friend to me and this House for many years and I trust him completely.” He looked to Sansa. “You will like it there, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?” Sansa wondered.

“You will like it there,” Ned repeated with the smallest smile.

Once her trunks were packed and her family had left, a maid helped Sansa into her nightgown before leaving as well. Alone, Sansa sat in the chair in front of the fire, Lady laying at her feet, and she stared into the flames. Tomorrow, she would be leaving to go to Runestone of the Vale; a castle she had never seen which would now be her home for how long.

Was her safety the true reason her parents were sending her away or was it something more than that? Was this about Jon? Were they going to send Jon away, too; perhaps to put even more distance between them? Were they convinced that distance would cause her and Jon to forget one another?

(Would they?)

She didn’t know how Jon felt about her. She knew how _she_ felt about him and that was probably reason enough to send her away. Maybe, in Runestone, away from here, Sansa would finally accept that something was terribly wrong in her wiring and being away would help get her mind right again.

Did Jon know she was leaving?

He must. It had been a week since father walked upon them in the Godswood and she had hardly seen him since then. Their father had taken it upon himself to make sure that Jon and Sansa had no opportunity to spend any time together – just the two of them. Would she even be able to see him before she left Winterfell? That still seemed like too a foreign thought to her. Leave Winterfell.

At least Lady was going to be coming with her. Sansa couldn’t even imagine leaving _everything_ , including her direwolf, behind as she left the only home she had ever known.

She knew Yohn Royce. He had visited Winterfell before and he was a kind man; as kind a man could seem while meeting his friend’s children in passing. It wasn’t as if Sansa had spent any significant time with him or had some in-depth conversations. He was very much a stranger; friend to her father or no.

Would Yohn Royce have anything to do with her? Yes, he was allowing her to live in his home but would he actually be involved in her existence? Would he just pass her off to some Septa or maid and be done with it?

Tears began to sting her eyes and she did nothing to prevent them from streaming down her cheeks. Tomorrow morning, she was leaving her home, her siblings, everything she had ever known and her parents wouldn’t even completely tell her why.

A rapid knock rapped on her bedroom door and thinking it was her mother, come to brush out her hair like she often liked to do, Sansa stood, still not wiping her cheeks. She was not going to hide her tears from anyone. They were forcing her to leave Winterfell and she wanted them to see what she thought about it.

Unlatching the door, she opened it a creak and peered out.

“Jon,” she whispered.

She hardly got his name out before Jon pushed the door open and slipped himself into the room, closing the door behind him. Her heart was immediately pounding just from feeling him so close to her after going all of these days without even a shiver of his warmth.

“Your mother’s on the way,” Jon whispered. “I carved this for you.” From his pocket, he produced something and pushed it into the palm of her hand, it small enough to fit there.

Sansa saw the wooden heart and she exhaled the shakiest of breaths. She looked to it and then lifted her eyes to Jon. She now knew. Her parents were sending her away because of this; because they knew that her heart twisted for this boy in front of her – no matter the titles or relations shared between them. It was wrong and yet, Sansa squeezed her fingers around the wooden heart and didn’t care.

Jon’s hands lifted to her cheeks and framing her face, he leaned in then and kissed her – hard and swift – and as soon as her brain registered Jon’s lips on hers, they were gone again.

“We’ll write to each other,” Jon promised to her and Sansa barely nodded before the door was open and Jon slipped out again, leaving her alone.

Sansa was rooted to the spot, her lips burning and her chest aching and the heart searing into her palm.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! We're going to be switching to Sansa's POV for a while now as we follow her to the Vale and to Yohn Royce.


	4. Runestone

…

**Four.**

Runestone Castle was an ancient fortress – built before the Andal Invasion – on the coast of the Narrow Sea. Sansa could hear the waves crashing against the rocks below as the carriage neared the looming castle. She could hear birds cawing as well as they flew against the overcast sky that day. A part of her was glad that the sun wasn’t shining. This particular weather – with the distant rumbles of thunder and threats of an approaching storm – fit her mood much better.

“Sansa.”

For one brief stubborn moment, Sansa told herself to keep her head turned to the window but she was nothing if not the good and polite eldest daughter of Ned and Catelyn Stark so she looked to her mother now, sitting on the bench seat across from her.

“I don’t want you to think that you’ve done anything wrong.”

This was not the first time her mother had said this. The journey to the Vale had taken them about four days and Catelyn had tried to tell Sansa this; Sansa admitting that she hadn’t really wanted to hear it because no matter how many times her mother would say that in some variation or another, she still wouldn’t _explain_.

“Your father and I love you so much, Sansa. I never want you to forget that,” Catelyn told her now.

Sansa was telling herself to stay stoic and almost frigid but at her mother’s words, she felt tears beginning to form. “Then why are you sending me away?” She asked in a whisper.

Despite the moving and jostling carriage, Catelyn managed to stand up from her seat and sit down next to Sansa, her arms going tightly around her, and though Sansa liked to think herself so grown now, she could not refuse her mother’s embrace. The problem was the instant she leaned into Catelyn, the tears began to fall and couldn’t be stopped.

“Oh my, love,” Catelyn said softly as she held Sansa tightly as Sansa wept. “I promise you. Your father and I have our reasons for bringing you here.”

“Because of Jon?” She hadn’t been brave enough to ask that question yet but now, the time had finally come. And at the question, she felt her mother tense ever so slightly.

“That’s part of it,” Catelyn said slowly. “But there is another reason. I promise. We need to keep you safe and right now, something is brewing that we are going to keep you from.”

“What?” Sansa lifted her head and looked to her mother’s face. For some reason, Catelyn looked so much older than she ever had; the wrinkles at the sides of her mouth heavy and pronounced. “I deserve to know,” she then said, frowning herself. “If it has to do with me, I deserve to know why I’m the only one of your children being sent away from home.”

“You do.”

Sansa was honestly surprised that Catelyn agreed with her and it must have showed on her face because Catelyn, then, gave the smallest smile and lifted her hands to either side of Sansa’s head, her thumbs wiping across her wet cheeks.

“But you must know, and remember, that your father and I are doing this because we love you and want to keep you safe and when we both think that danger has passed, we will tell you but we can’t, Sansa. Not until then. Please tell me you understand that.”

“I understand it,” Sansa said to her mother. She wished she didn’t. She wanted to yell and scream and dramatically throw herself from the carriage – and probably kill herself in the process – but she knew she wouldn’t do any of those things. Her manners would never permit it. “But I don’t like it at all.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Catelyn responded to that and kissed Sansa on the forehead before pulling her back into her arms, holding her tightly, and Sansa closed her eyes, resting her head on her mother’s chest. She could still feel tears forming and burning before slipping down her cheeks. “Never forget, Sansa. We love you so much and we will visit and no matter where you are in this world, you are a Stark.”

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut as more tears fell. “Please don’t forget me.”

Catelyn’s arms only tightened around her and the smallest shiver quaked through her body. Sansa didn’t look but she could tell that her mother was crying, too.

What could it be that her parents were keeping her safe from? Her mother hadn’t denied that a part of this was about Jon but it was more than that. Sansa tried to think of what that could be but she admitted that her life in Winterfell had always been a sheltered one and she couldn’t even begin to think of what that might be.

In the pocket of her cloak, she had Jon’s wooden heart and she squeezed her fingers around it.

…

Ned had been riding horseback along with some of his men and when they entered the gates of Runestone, he saw Yohn Royce standing outside the main castle doors. There were other men with him but Ned didn’t know who they were. He would soon enough. Ned dismounted and Yohn stepped to him, holding out his hand, and Ned took it with his own, grasping it tightly.

“I can’t begin to thank you-” Ned began to say.

Yohn promptly cut him off before he could finish. “It is an honor, Ned. It’s been a while since my daughters have lived here but I think I remember some things.”

Ned’s lips twitched at that but couldn’t find it in himself to break into an actual smile. There wasn’t much to smile about today, in his opinion.

“I can’t tell you why. I will one day – when the time is right. But until then, you must keep her safe for me,” Ned told his old friend. “Her mother and I will send for her. But until then-”

“I will guard her with my life,” Yohn vowed to him.

Both men turned when the door to the carriage was opened and one of the Stark soldiers first helped Sansa down, followed by Catelyn. Yohn bowed to both and Ned went to meet his wife and daughter. It was clear to him that Sansa had been crying – her eyes red and her cheeks still wet. At the sight, his chest twisted. He never wanted to see any of his children cry or hurt but whether she knew this or not – and at the moment, she didn’t – being sent here was for her own good. For her safety as well. Hers and Jon’s both – safety from one another and from things beginning to happen outside of the North that neither would understand.

He gently put his hands on either side of Sansa’s head and tilted it upwards so their eyes could meet. She didn’t say anything but she sniffled and Ned kissed her on the head.

He kept his arm around her shoulders as he turned them both to Yohn, who now moved to stand in front of them. “Lord Royce, you remember my wife, Lady Catelyn. And this is our daughter, Sansa.”

Yohn smiled at Catelyn and then moved his eyes down to Sansa. The girl shrank a little against her father at the man’s size. The man smiled warmly, having noticed but pretending that he hadn’t. “Welcome to Runestone, Sansa. I’m so glad you could come.”

Yohn Royce was a large man, Sansa noted, with grey hair, grey eyes and bushy eyebrows. He was much larger than father and Sansa admitted to herself that it made her nervous, but still, she was Sansa Stark and there was only thing she could do right now.

Stepping away from her father just enough, she dipped into a curtsy. “Thank you for having me, Lord Royce,” she said before stepping right into Ned’s side again, her father’s arm going around her shoulders.

“I have a few people I would like you to meet,” Yohn said, stepping aside and holding his arm out. As Ned knew he would, he was referring to the three men who had been standing with him. “This is the maester of Runestone, Maester Helliweg, our Septon Lucos and Ser Samwell Stone is our maester-at-arms.”

Sansa looked at the men. None of them smiled but they all bowed respectively at her and her parents. She did her best to remember their names and their roles since these would probably be three men she would see often during her time here; however long that time would be.

Her fingers squeezed around the wooden heart in her cloak’s pocket so tightly, her knuckles began to ache. Still, she did not let it go or lessened her hold. She liked to imagine that Jon could feel it all the way back in Winterfell and whenever she squeezed it, he would know she was thinking of him and wished he was here.

“Would you like to see your chamber, Sansa?” Yohn asked.

“That would be wonderful, Lord Royce, thank you,” Catelyn smiled, knowing that Sansa wouldn’t answer.

“Oh! Lady!” Sansa suddenly exclaimed.

Her pup had been riding in the carriage but then had gotten too excited and wanted to run so she had been tagging along with the other wagon, trotting after it and stopping to smell everything.

As if hearing her, Lady let out a bark and a moment later, the young direwolf pup ran into the castle’s courtyard to join the others. Sansa wasn’t sure if her father had mentioned that Sansa had a direwolf and that that direwolf would be coming with her. Would Lord Royce permit Sansa to keep Lady with her? Would the man not wish for a direwolf to be in his castle and insist Lady go back with father and mother to Winterfell? Sansa had no idea what she would do if Lady couldn’t be with her.

“So, this is Lady,” Lord Royce smiled down at the animal and Lady swished her tail, panting up at the man. “We don’t have Direwolves this far away from the Wall, as you know, so Lady, you will be the very first anyone in the Vale has probably ever seen and I am honored to have you here.”

Lady’s tail swished faster at that.

Sansa looked up to Ned, surprised – and grateful – that her father would think to mention Lady and showing it on her face. Ned just gave her a small smile and squeezed his arm around her shoulders.

“Lord Royce,” Catelyn stepped up and slipped her arm through the man’s. She was smiling and her eyes looked wet. “We would love for you to show us Runestone.”

…

Where Winterfell was large and sprawling outwards, Runestone was tall in height, building upwards. Sansa had no idea how she would ever remember how to find anything here. She tried to remember hallways and turns and she counted climbing three separate staircases before Lord Royce stopped them at a closed door.

“Now, House Waxley in the Vale is known for their scented candles in Wickenden with nutmeg and other spices,” the man said and Sansa barely remembered to nod. Her mother had candles from House Waxley back home. “I was going to have some for you, Sansa, but I wanted to see which scents you would like.” With that, he turned and pushed the door open to the room. “This room hasn’t been used for many years but I know my daughters loved having a view of the sea and I thought you might like the same.”

Sansa couldn’t stop the gasp that rose from her throat as she looked into the room.

It was larger than her room at Winterfell but that wasn’t why she gasped. The far wall had such large windows and with Runestone right on the cliffs, there seemed to be nothing but the sky; as if there wasn’t glass at all to keep her inside. She felt herself being pulled towards it and she crossed the room, her eyes never leaving the view in front of her. She gasped again when at the glass, she looked down and _straight_ down, there was the sea – angry and grey, crashing into the rocky coast below.

“Lord Royce, how safe is this room?” Her mother asked, Catelyn having come up to stand next to Sansa to look over the view without Sansa even noticing.

“As safe as this whole castle, I promise, My Lady,” Lord Royce, he and Ned standing behind them.

Sansa watched for another moment before finally turning to look at the rest of the room. The stone fireplace was almost the length of an entire wall and opposite it, there was a heavy, large four-post bed with curtains all around, to either keep pulled back or to pull around the bed to cloak it in complete darkness. A fur was thrown across the foot of it along with thick blankets and four pillows. There was a desk with a chair, a shelf for her books, a heavy wardrobe for her dresses and in front of the fire, there were two chairs and a small table between them. There was also a beautiful tapestry of flowers and birds hanging on the wall next to the desk. 

It was a very nice room; a _gorgeous_ room but right now, that was all it was. It wasn’t like her room in Winterfell and Sansa didn’t know if it ever would be. Even after her trunks were carried here and she unpacked all of her things, would this room then be hers or would it still be just a room?

Lady was busy, exploring every inch of the room, and Lord Royce was discussing the dinner feast with her parents that he had planned this evening to introduce Sansa to others who lived at Runestone. Apparently, besides their bountiful seafood, no one grew better pumpkins in all of Westeros than in the Valey and he was describing the hearty pumpkin soup they would be having for their first course; his personal favorite.

Sansa was hardly listening though. Honestly, she had no idea if she would be able to eat anytime soon. Her stomach was tight; her mind still processing the fact that she was going to be _living_ here. Her parents were staying for the next two weeks, to make sure she was settled and all was well, but then, they would be leaving again for Winterfell and Sansa – with Lady – would be staying here in the Vale, without them.

She had taken her cloak off earlier but the carved heart was small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She still held it and she was still squeezing it.

“Lord Royce?”

The man instantly turned towards her.

“For the candles… does House Waxley make a pine scent?”

Jon smelled like pine.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be worked on/posted on Thursday but I came down with a terrible sinus infection and I've been sick and am currently on heavy-duty antibiotics so I really hope this chapter is, at least, somewhat good lol
> 
> The next chapter, we will see Sansa waking up on her first morning in Runestone - without her parents - we will meet a few more characters and Sansa receives her first letter from a certain "half-brother" back home. (And I know in the first three chapters, we didn't see *that* much of Jonsa's relationship, but I've been saving details for these letters.)
> 
> Also, Sansa has a theme song for this story that I listen to while I'm writing and I posted it at the end of this chapter. 
> 
> THANK YOU!!


	5. Morning

…

**Five.**

Sansa woke up extra early every morning; when the sky was just lightening to a shade of grey and there weren’t even birds awake yet to sing their songs. She slipped from the bed and slid her feet into her house slippers and then took her housecoat draped on the bench at the foot of the bed and put it on over her white nightgown. Lady hopped down from the bed and was right at Sansa’s side as she quietly opened her chamber’s door. The sconces on the walls, still blazing, lit their way.

After a month in Runestone, Sansa recognized the faces of all of the guards on duty that she passed and she made sure to smile at each one. Her parents had taught her that everyone within the castle was important – from those who sat at the high table for meals down to those who cleaned out the chamber-pots each day and it was something Sansa never forgot. And when she smiled, the guards smiled back, tilting their heads towards her as the girl made her way outside.

There was an inner courtyard, the looming walls of Runestone rising on all sides with the sky exposed directly overhead, with grass and trees and Sansa brought Lady here each morning for the pup to relieve herself. Sansa knew that everyone understood that animals oftentimes had accidents while they were inside but she did her best to make sure that her direwolf had as few of those as possible. She may have been here for a month already but she still considered herself a guest and she would not insult her host, Yohn Royce, by not caring that her direwolf released herself all over his home.

Once Lady emptied herself, they both turned and went back inside, climbing all of the flights of stairs back to their chamber. With the door closed and her housecoat and slippers off, Sansa slipped back into her bed with Lady flopped out next to her and she went back to sleep for a couple more hours. Yohn Royce had told her more than once that one of the maids already awake would be able to let Lady out so Sansa could continue to sleep, uninterrupted, but Sansa didn’t mind. She truly didn’t. Lady was her direwolf and Sansa’s life wasn’t the only one which had drastically changed with coming here from Winterfell.

Sansa felt that she and Lady needed to stick – and adjust – together.

When she first arrived, she didn’t expect herself to get _any_ sleep in this chamber that Yohn Royce had prepared for her. The ocean was _right_ below her and the crash of waves against the rocks could be quite loud. She had never tried to sleep with such noise but to the surprise of her, each night when she laid down to go to sleep, it was the crashing of the waves that lulled her. She often dreamed of being on those waves, being gently carried and rocked away.

That was what it did for her again this dawn and laying on her side, facing all of those windows that looked out over the water, Sansa’s eyes grew heavy and within seconds, she was back asleep.

Once the sun was fully risen outside – and the light poured warmly into the room – and the water birds were all cawing as they dove down into the water, coming up with a fish in their beaks again, Sansa’s eyes fluttered open and the first thing she saw was Lady’s face directly in front of hers.

“Alright, alright,” she let out a laugh and Lady panted happily, her tail wagging so quickly, it made her body rock and shake the entire bed. “Alright, I’m awake. Stop breathing on me.” She laughed again as Lady licked her chin and then crawled off of Sansa’s body to hop down from the bed.

Sansa pushed the blankets and furs off her body and pulled herself from the bed as well. She emptied herself into her chamberpot and then went to the basin of water on the stand next to the hearth so she could wash her hands, face and give her teeth a quick scrub.

The chamber door suddenly burst open but Sansa didn’t even jump in surprise. This had become a daily morning occurrence and after the first few times, she no longer shrieked with fright.

Her cousin, the son to her mother’s sister, Robin Arryn, had arrived at Runestone two weeks earlier. His father, Sansa’s uncle, Jon Arryn, was Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Warden of the East and the head of House Arryn. He also served as the first Hand of King Robert Baratheon in King’s Landing. Robin had been born down there as he lived with his mother, Aunt Lysa, and his father.

For some reason, Jon Arryn and Lysa sent Robin from King’s Landing here to Runestone for Yohn Royce to look after him. Robin didn’t know the reason. No one had told him anything and Sansa wondered if Robin felt as confused and angry as she felt for none of their parents – or Yohn Royce – telling either of them anything.

And though she hardly knew her cousin at all, Sansa was glad that he was here with her. He was family. And it made missing Bran and Rickon just a little less because Robin reminded her of them. Wild and adventurous and mischievous.

His chamber was right across the hall from Sansa’s and each morning, Robin liked to burst into her room to “announce” himself. Before he was sent from King’s Landing, his father had gifted him with a toy sword that Robin carried with him everywhere, looped through his belt if he was not holding it.

“I have come to vanquish monsters!” Robin declared, already waving his sword.

Sansa finished scrubbing her teeth and wiped at her mouth with her hand cloth. “There have been no monsters since you scared them off last night.”

“And none have returned?”

“None would _dare_.” She smiled at that and Robin gave her a grin but circled her chamber anyway, waving his sword about.

The next person to enter her chamber was Daisy, the young maid that had been assigned to Sansa. She was a girl of fourteen with the most beautiful black hair Sansa had ever seen. It was long and curly and every day, she wore it pulled back in two thick braids.

“Good morning, My Lady,” Daisy curtsied at her. “Are you ready to get dressed?”

“I am. Good morning, Daisy,” Sansa smiled at her.

She was glad that she had a maid who was her age and Sansa liked to think that Yohn Royce had done that purposely; so Sansa would have someone else around her who could perhaps – hopefully – become a friend.

“Lord Robin, Lord Royce was asking for you,” Daisy then informed the boy. “You left one of your toy knights on his solar chair and he sat on it this morning.”

Robin burst out with laughter at that and Sansa pursed her lips together to keep from doing the same. The boy raced from the room and Daisy moved to close the door after him. As soon as it was just the two girls, Sansa lifted her nightgown from over her head as Daisy went to get her a fresh shift. Once that was on, she then helped Sansa with her stocking and then with her corset. Sansa held onto one the bed posts as Daisy began lacing it. Lastly, Daisy brought Sansa’s dress over her head – a forest green dress that day with long sleeves in a darker green shade.

“How would you like your hair today, My Lady?” Daisy asked as Sansa looked at her reflection in the mirror.

By now, Sansa could hardly keep herself still. Instead of answer, Sansa spun towards the girl. “Did it come? Did anyone else see?”

Daisy reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out the piece of parchment. “It arrived just as promised, My Lady,” she said with the smallest smile. “You need to ask Lord Royce for your own raven. I know he’ll get you one. That way, you won’t have to worry about anyone else seeing these.”

Sansa took the parchment delicately and smiled to herself as she saw the familiar direwolf seal in red wax. She brought it to her nose like the silly girl she was, imagining that she’d be able to still smell a hint of him. The pine candles helped but she missed the smell of _him_ ; of snow and the wind and of him.

“Thank you, Daisy,” Sansa smiled at her and Daisy smiled in return. Sansa reached out and took hold of one of her hands, giving it the briefest squeeze. “And I think my hair down today with two braids going back into one down the back.”

“Right away, My Lady.”

Runestone was a very nice place and Yohn Royce, she quickly learned, was a very nice man but this wasn’t Winterfell. This wasn’t home and her family was home. Her parents swore to her that they wouldn’t forget her – there was no chance of that – and so far, they had all written to her. Even Arya. Every letter she received, she read it at least twice and took great time in responding.

But this letter – _these_ letters – were the ones she had come to look forward to more than any other.

Daisy didn’t know. She thought that Sansa had a sweetheart back North that her family didn’t know about and Sansa didn’t correct her because technically, that was true. And while she liked Daisy, already, so much, Sansa knew that she couldn’t confide in her about _who_ her sweetheart was.

That was her secret and her secret alone.

She sat in her chair and Daisy stood behind her, brushing out and braiding her hair, and Sansa brought the parchment, once more, to her nose. She closed her eyes. Even though she knew she couldn’t, she told herself so anyway. She told herself that she could smell Jon on this paper.

…

Yohn Royce wanted Sansa and Robin to break their fasts with him each morning in the Hall with the others of Runestone. At the head table, besides them, Maester Helliweg, Septon Lucos and Ser Samwell Stone joined them. Sansa had yet to talk with any of them directly. All three men didn’t seem to have much opinion of a thirteen-year-old girl now living with them though she had noticed – more than once – Ser Samwell discreetly slipped bits of his bread from the table to Lady.

(Sansa always pretended that she never noticed.)

There was no time to read the letter and Sansa slipped it into the inner pocket of her dress. She would read it the instant she was done eating and could slip away with Lady for some time alone. She missed Jon so much, her stomach practically ached when she thought of him and she only hoped that his stomach ached, too.

She couldn’t stand the idea of him slowly forgetting her as she lived here while he was there. What would she do if he did? What would she do if father arranged a match for him as father and mother were already discussing with Robb? Would Jon refuse? Would Jon tell them that he would never marry anyone other than Sansa? They couldn’t marry though. It wasn’t done. Half-brother and half-sisters shouldn’t even _want_ to marry one another. And yet…

What if Jon stopped feeling the same for her? What if he accepted the match their father made for him and went off, married to another girl who didn’t share the same father?

Ugh. What was wrong with her? OF COURSE Jon should marry a girl who didn’t share the same father. Her parents could say anything they wanted but she knew that these exact thoughts were the only reason her parents had sent her here, to Runestone; punishing her for her depravity.

And clearly, with these thoughts, she needed to be punished.

Still, she would read Jon’s letter as soon as she could because for the moment, he still shared her feelings.

She and Lady walked into the Hall of Runestone – the tables crowded with others breaking their fasts – and she felt their eyes on her. Well, not on her. On Lady. Even a month of seeing her and almost all were still getting used to the sight of an actual Direwolf.

The Hall here reminded her of the Hall at Winterfell and it was a small thing she was grateful for.

At the head table, all of the men stood to bow politely to her; except for Robin, who was still eating his bowl of oats without pausing. When he saw this, Yohn Royce gently took the boy’s arm and pulled him to his feet.

“You bow,” Yohn Royce told him.

Robin looked like he wanted to argue but his cheeks were bulged out with a mouthful of uneaten oats and wanting to get back to his breakfast, he bowed as he was supposed to. Sansa curtsied at them all in response. When she sat down in her seat next to Yohn Royce, a serving maid appeared from nowhere to place Sansa’s breakfast of eggs, oats and fruit in front of her. She smiled to herself as Lady sat herself by Ser Samwell’s end of the table.

“How did you sleep, Lady Sansa?” Yohn Royce asked.

“Very well, Lord Royce. And you?”

“I did sleep quite well. Robin, chew before you swallow,” he then said to the boy.

Sansa ate her breakfast for a few minutes, staying quiet, and thinking of the letter in her dress. This was the first letter he had written to her and she wanted nothing more than to rip it open and read it a dozen times.

She tried to think of what Jon wrote to her. She had written to him first and she had agonized over the words she would say to him; wanting to say that most perfect thing. In the end, she had written to him about Runestone and her chamber and the ocean right outside her window. She wrote of the mild weather and the kindness of Yohn Royce, of Daisy and the surprise of Robin.

After even more agonizing, she had finally signed the letter _With Love, Sansa_.

She prayed that Jon had signed his letter the same. If he hadn’t…

Well, if he hadn’t signed it the same way, it would be alright. It didn’t mean anything. He was a boy and boys sometimes had more difficulty discussing their feelings. It wouldn’t matter how he signed the letter. The most important thing was that he had written back to her and that after a month, Jon hadn’t forgotten her.

“Sansa, after we break our fasts, I would like you and Robin to be with me this morning,” Yohn Royce spoke through her thoughts. “There is something I would like to start teaching you both.”

Thankfully, Sansa was able to keep herself from shouting NO instantly.

Her fingers itched to touch the letter inside of her dress.

Somehow, she managed to smile. “Of course, Lord Royce,” she agreed because honestly, what else could she say to him? No, Lord Royce, I can’t because I need to read a letter from my half-brother who I love? She still didn’t know the man well enough but she knew that she liked him enough to not cause his heart to stop.

It seemed like Jon’s letter would have to wait until after Yohn Royce’s lesson.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! (And in _I of the Storm_ , I used ravens like the HP universe uses owls so I'm carrying that into this story as well.)


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